


Four stages

by roseprice612



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: dont mind me over here, drunk Maedhros is a lil shit, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 15:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11900676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseprice612/pseuds/roseprice612
Summary: I'm a piece of shit and had like fifteen minutes of free time so I'd figure I'd post yet another Maedhros fic cause I have no sense of what is too muchMaedhros gets hella drunk fam. Maglor watches and morphs into his true form, a mom. The twins r gonna smuggle and snuggle like six dogs.





	Four stages

**Author's Note:**

> REALLY LOOSELY based off this http://alyruko.tumblr.com/post/98881510901/so-more-of-this-crossover-im-glad-you-liked-it  
> And this http://gultgull.tumblr.com/post/164004097474/maedhros-very-drunk-youll-think-you-can-do-it  
> Honestly more like inspired by but yknow

There were usually three stages to Maedhros' drinking. First, it was the tipsy stage - here, he seemed more himself, more like how he used to be, which was awfully sad. He'd joke less depressingly and more in good humor, and generally this was fairly common for him. Second, he'd reach a sort-of drunken stupor, slurred speech but a bubbling smile on his scarred lips. At this stage he was most likely to playfully hit on anyone attractive nearby, but all those who lived in the fortress knew these states and stayed far away from him. The third was the rarest, and the most dramatic change. He'd slip into old memories of battles, of blood and gore and of all he'd done wrong. His eyes would go blank, and he'd stare off as if seeing a ghost. Maybe he did see ghosts. No one was really sure. It was hard to understand him in this stage. To even get that drunk he'd have to down at least a few bottles of wine, or half a keg of beer. And he was always either alone or with his brother and the twins, even if Maglor didn't like the children around him.

"Can we get a dog, Maedhros?" Elros asked, after his father's rambling has simmered away. The redhead paused, scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, before nodding dramatically.

"Get a dog!" He announced. Maglor glanced towards the closed door and hoped it'd be enough to hide the noise. "Get three dogs! Get six dogs!"

"Really?" Elrond raised his eyebrows. He loved when Maedhros was this drunk; it made for some good entertainment.

"Yes!" He went to stand, his prosthetic hand knocking over a wine glass in the process and sending it smashing to the stone floor. "Oops." He bent down to pick up the pieces when his fake hand again swept a full wine bottle, which then went flying across the room. Maglor caught it, not after spilling a lot on himself.

"We are not getting a dog." Maglor said, hurrying to Maedhros to grab his right wrist and set the wine back on the table. "And you're taking off your hand. For safety precautions."

"I need my hand!" Maedhros protested, pouting but allowing his brother to unclasp the leather around his wrist.

"That's the second glass you've broken tonight." Maglor removed the hand and set it on the table as well, sitting Maedhros back into his chair. "And sit down. You're going to break more things."

"Maybe I want to break things." Maedhros spat back. "You- you're prohib-ting me, Mag." He always shortened his name to Mag when he was this drunk. He couldn't really pronounce the whole thing. Maglor went to respond, call the kids out of the room, when Maedhros ducked his head and began to sob.

"What are you crying about now?" Maglor rolled his eyes.

"Are-are we ever gonna see mom again?" He choked, lifting his head and heaving choppy breaths.

Maglor chewed the inside of his cheek. "I don't know, Maedhros. We may, we may not. It's not likely."

"How not likely?" This was one of those weird questions, where no one could really answer it save the Valar. "How not likely is it?"

"I don't know."

Maedhros dipped his head again, slumping his shoulders. He grabbed the wine bottle and took a long swig, then gagged. He was almost at stage four: no turning back. Blackout drunk. Not knowing where he was, relapsing into Black Speech, insisting on seeing father or threatening to tell mother. Sometimes he'd get violent and pick up a knife from eru knows where and press it to Maglor's throat, sobbing helplessly and growling lowly. Maglor made sure to take the kids out of the room before that.

"You've had enough." Maglor tried to tug the bottle from his brother's grasp, to relieve him of embarrassing himself, but Maedhros did exactly what Maglor didn't want him to do. He kicked him in the shins and stood, tipping but looking ferocious. When he spoke, it was a horrible Black Speech. Stage four.

"Maedhros." Maglor insisted, shielding the twins and backing away. Saying his Sindarin name always seemed to keep him grounded, if only a little. "Maedhros, you're not yourself."

He tipped his head back and finished the wine. Then he bashed the end on the edge of the table and pointed the sharp glass towards Maglor. "You st-stay away." He hissed. "Y-y-you do nothing but-but hurt me."

"Elrond, Elros." Maglor glanced back at the twins and pointedly looked to the door. "Get out of here. Get in bed, I'll be in soon."

"Papa-" Elros started.

"Out." When Maglor got like this, they knew to just do as he said. The children scurried out the thick door and pattered down the hall. Maglor turned back to his brother. "Maedhros, stop."

He was now sobbing and growling at the same time. In one simple move Maglor took the shattered bottle out of his hand and pushed him away, towards his bed. Maedhros stumbled and tripped over his own feet, catching himself with the stump of his right forearm and let out a short moan of pain. Silence spread. Maedhros began to laugh, and Maglor let out a sigh of relief.

"Alright, let's get you in bed." Maglor placed the half-bottle on the table before grabbing his huge brother by he armpits and dragging him into the bed, covered by fine furs. "That's enough. Let me get your boots, now." He tugged the leather boots off a squirmy drunken giant.

"Mah-Mag." At this point Maedhros struggled to say Maglor's name at all. "Is- is Fin 'ere?"

Maglor's stomach lurched. He tossed the boots aside. "Yes. He's here."

"Te-ell 'im I lo-ove 'im."

Maglor pulled the furs over his brother and brushed his wild hair away from his face. "I will. Go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow, okay?"

"Te-ell ma I love her."

Maglor bit his lip and stepped away from the bed before it could get worse. "I will."

"Ma-g?"

"Yes?"

"I lobe you." He smiled and stuck out his tongue at Maglor. Finally, Maglor smiled and looked down.

"Yeah yeah, I lobe you too."

**Author's Note:**

> I man thinking of broadening my horizons and posting some got/asoiaf on here as well, I've been starting something that I should prob finish  
> Hmu of you read or would like to read sum of that shit


End file.
